Empty Vessels: A Month at Camp in British Columbia
As I boarded a plane to Seattle with a Passport in one hand, and a bag of sour gummy worms in the other, I didn’t know what to expect. I was venturing into uncharted waters, as it was my first time in the Pacific Northwest, first time in Canada, and first time visiting The Malibu Younglife Camp property. I’d be soon living with nearly fifty strangers from across the Continental U.S, who I’d never met for the duration of a month on site. In the moments before I landed in SEA-TAC, I laid all anticipations I had aside, because it had truly become real. Despite knowing that I’d been offered the position since February, it wasn’t until the flight attendant’s welcomed the plane’s occupants to Washington that I was able to rationalize and recognize the opportunity that I’d been provided. I’d be spending the early parts of my summer in British Columbia, Canada.
After landing, picking up luggage, and then eventually finding some of my fellow Summer Staff Cohorts, (There’s a radiance and dress code that gives summer camp people away) the excitement rose and the idea that I’d be living with strangers faded—it was clear that these would be more than peers, but rather fifty new best friends. Being greeted by hugs and smiles, made it clear that I’d been embraced by a community of similarly minded people who had the same intentions, as they each also abandoned life back home for a month of serving high school students.
The journey to Malibu is an adventure in and of itself. Being only accessible by boat or seaplane makes its desolation something incredibly unique. After my flight into Seattle, I boarded a bus, heading north for several hours through Vancouver, and then Northern Vancouver, eventually making it to the Canadian Border. Crossing into the country was smooth, and fortunately there were no issues, so I was able to make it on to an earlier Canadian Fairy which was a gorgeous venture.
After departing by bus from the ferry, I began a multiple hour bus ride to the Malibu Club landing dock. Much of the drive time included an opportunity for each staff member to share three defining moments through the microphone on the front of the bus, beginning to break down the walls of early relationships. By then, the sun had already begun to set, and it had gotten late, but the excitement for what was to come kept me wide awake. Together as a staff, we boarded water taxis (Yes, they’re a real thing) and traversed across the open water, through several coves, eventually being greeted by the lights of camp on the Princess Louisa Inlet. After finding my bunk bed, putting away my clothes, and recognizing that this wasn’t just something that I was dreaming of, I was able to rest easy.
Waking to the early Pacific Northwest sunrise, I walked outside and was simply in awe of the beauty of the Property—sitting in absolute wonder of the water, the mountains, and the resonating fog. I was even greeted by a nudge on my side from the orange property cat, which made it clear that I was meant to be in this place in this moment. Photos can’t even begin to quantify the true vastness of this place. If Jurassic Park and the North Pole were seamlessly blended, it would be a small reflection of Malibu Club. Sea lions swimming, cranes and swallows singing, and the snow capped Frankenstein Mountain bellowing its crowning authority over the inlet. This was real life, untouched.
Coming into camp, I had some expectations for the month; I knew I’d be working on ropes, getting to work directly with campers and their leaders, I knew that the days would be long, the nights would be short, and that I’d be playing a seemingly small role, in a much grander organizational mission—however, what I thought I was going to take from my Summer Staff experience, was only a fraction of what I really learned.
When I arrived, briefings were given, training began, and I was assigned to not only the title of “Ropes Dude,” but also a member of the Guest Services Team. Initially, the extra job description gave me anxiety, thinking that I would be overwhelmed with jobs, which I wouldn’t be able to enjoy my time, but those stresses eventually disappeared. It seems comical, but for Canadian licensing and insurance, all Ropes Rides are considered to be carnival attractions; so the role of Carnie, became a part of my beta. (Definitely adding that to my list of professional experiences)
A normal day at camp (that statement in and of itself is frankly an oxymoron) included early morning equipment inspections of harnesses, helmets, and trolleys, and then a staff test ride, which doubled as a convenient excuse to enjoy the giant swing and zip lines every day. Then would come scheduled times with each individual cabin of guys and girls. My day to day role would switch between being up in the air on each of the platforms giving flight commands through radios, or on the ground helping fit equipment and giving the safety talk. It took some adjustment and getting used to, but halfway through the first week, it became second nature, and thoroughly enjoyable.
The most significant and undeniably meaningful part of my job, was that each week, I had the opportunity to individually interact with nearly every camper and the leader that brought them on the adventure to Malibu. Even if I only had 15 seconds to talk to a camper while they were at my zipline station, it gave me hundreds of moments to step into 15 seconds worth of a high schoolers life. We often negate the underlying power of short interactions. Some of these moments were awkward, when campers wouldn’t answer my overly enthusiastic and often ridiculous questions, but other times, students opened up, baring their tender hearts on their sleeves telling me that their week at Malibu has shaped their life, and has given them a newfound hope for the future.
It’s moments like this that you usually aren’t prepared for, especially when you embody the title of ‘Ropes Dude,” you never anticipate some of the responses you’ll receive, or interactions you’ll have. One particular individual in my second week left me absolutely speechless when he opened up and out of nowhere told me thank you for working at camp. Unlike most campers, he knew I wasn’t getting paid for my time on site, so his sincerity was genuine. I then told him I was glad to be able to serve him, and that I was really glad he was there. He then explained that it was tough coming to camp without his brother, but all the staff and work crew created an atmosphere that made him feel welcomed.
To continue the conversation, not thinking anything of it, and in an effort to be friendly, I asked about his brother. To which he replied that his brother had just been diagnosed with cancer, and was unable to come to camp, because of the need to be monitored, and inability to leave the United States. I was absolutely wrecked, and had no words to respond to this teenager, so I did the only thing I felt able to and gave him a tight hug, and pat on the back. I had no words because it was a time when I truly couldn’t say that “Everything was going to be alright,” because there’s a chance that it won’t—this was a heavy reality that resonated over me. Most adults don’t even know how to properly handle this type of situation, so it was rough knowing that this was something a young teen had to deal with. The things we see in others isn’t always up to us, but how we choose to respond is in our control, and in this unfortunate turn of events, I hope I was a small light and brought some joy to a dark set of circumstances. That moment brought enough fulfillment for the entire session, and was a clear reminder of why I was supposed to be there.
In the few times throughout each week where I wasn’t wearing a harness and helmet, I’d find myself in countless other roles around camp, making hundreds of cinnamon rolls for camper breakfasts, demonstrating square dance routines with my fellow staff members, dressing up in a shark costume, organizing relay races, folding bedding laundry, washing hundreds of dishes, unloading boat freight and setting up and tearing down events. Each staff member worked many long intensive hours to bring a seemingly impossible vision for summer camp to life. Even looking back now, what gets accomplishment isn’t even in the most remote sense feasible or practical. Similarly however, working in the messy parts of a teenager’s life usually isn’t feasible or practical, yet it’s still worth it.
This month was a continued journey of self discovery, as I was and am enveloped in this idea of trying to find and create intention and meaning in everything I do. If my actions don’t have reasoning stitched inside, what’s the point? This has been my new and upcoming continued approach to learning in academia, my workplace, and at summer camp, because I now realize that if you have no value behind your actions, the truths you choose to willingly stand on are pointless.
Malibu, British Columbia was one of the most awe inspiring destinations I’ve ever had the opportunity to travel to. It impossibly stunning and no camera can truly capture the immensity of the inlet and the grandeur that is the PNW. Yet, despite the innate and intrinsic beauty of this magical place, the true beauty, didn’t come from the mystique Pacific Ocean, or the snow capped Mountains, it came from the people. Those fifty strangers that I met for the first time in the airport were reminders of the goodness of humanity. Being absent of all media as I was so far off the grid, allowed me to see the integral parts of an individual’s heart. In a time when we only seem to hear exposure of bad news, it’s refreshing to be able to see others through a more compassionate and understanding humanistic point of view.
I‘m eternally grateful for long discussions, talks and tears with my staff over many cups of coffee, in the ropes shed, sitting on the dock, in the breath of an early sunrise, or beneath the millions of stars long after we should have been in bed. These conversations were raw, unfaultered and vulnerable, but brought an unbelievable sense of hope, guidance and encouragement to finish the camp session strong, and return home both revived and restored. I’m thankful for the people who choose to radiate light through their smiles and laughter, for those who reminded me to listen earnestly, those who sought after connections beyond surface level, and those who so passionately loved other people regardless of the baggage they carry around, or the circumstances they’ve ended up in. It’s not unreasonable to say that I lived in the presence of future philanthropists, missionaries, educators, and world changers the past several weeks. It’s comforting knowing that these young individuals are charging boldly into the world to battle injustices, challenging status quos, and positively impacting the lives of so many people. To the summer staff team that made it a month I’ll never forget, I give my sincere appreciation and love to you.
Saying goodbye to these people was the last thing from easy, as we all boarded planes to our various homes and different places; but it made me recognize how perfectly in tune this life is. How every moment in time and all the events in each of our lives lead us up to this moment that we would all come together from far and wide to serve campers together. Often times, it’s easier to focus on what seems as if your life is falling to pieces, but seldom do we willingly choose to recognize the seamless design and sequence of events that each of us go through in this journey called life.
We’re all just empty vessels coasting on the waters of life. The winds of strife can either make us shipwreck, or engulf our sails, sending us on an unpredictable but meaningful adventure. We will be battered, bruised, and broken, but the life boats of other people, bring us safely back to solid ground. We will struggle to bail water when everything comes flooding in, but we don’t have to ride alone. The choice is ultimately up to us. As is the crew we choose to bring into our lives; they can make our endeavors more enjoyable, or lead us astray into dark, uncharted waters.
Thank you Malibu Club for reminding me of this.
Stir a Passion and Set Sail.
-Nick
